


Choose Life

by bananasandroses (achuislemochroi)



Series: Whofic [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 4X13 (Journey's End), Angst, Choose Life, F/M, Romance, Soul-Searching, Tenth Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-15
Updated: 2009-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7778206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achuislemochroi/pseuds/bananasandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They would be OK, she and he.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_After Sarah Jane, then Martha, Jack and Mickey left the TARDIS in quick succession, Rose saw the Doctor – her Doctor; brown-suited and as manic as ever, he’d hardly changed a bit – look over at her mother and the not-Doctor, appear to come to a decision, and then smile that Cheshire cat grin at her as he reached over and took her hand. She felt alive again, in that way she only ever did when he was with her. Concentrating on the deliciousness of finally being able to luxuriate in that feeling once again, she completely missed the fact that his grin had failed utterly to meet his eyes._

-oO-x-Oo-

He was alive again, in ways he had never quite let himself be before, and determined to let his myriad senses drown in her completely – in that essence that was, ineffably, _Rose_. He'd been without her too long now – and if the half-baked plan he'd started to hatch actually came off, he would be without her for the rest of her life. But she would be safe from all his enemies, she'd be happy with her family, and...

The fact that it was killing him to do it, the fact that it would break a promise he had once sworn nothing would stop him from keeping? What was all that against knowing his precious, precious girl was somewhere she could not be tainted by him any further?

Davros was right. He radicalised people – turned them into weapons, of a sort – and _he_ was the one who ended up getting off scot-free. Davros had only put into words what he had been thinking about himself for years. Before the Time War he'd never felt it as keenly, or been as crushed by the accompanying guilt; but it had been there, all right, burrowing itself into his psyche.

Shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts enough to be able to think coherently, he looked across at the man who was him, but wasn't, and at Jackie (who was at least making a desultory effort at conversation), and he came to a decision. The time was coming when his other self and Jackie would _have_ to get along, for Rose's sake, why not let them get on with it now and allow himself and Rose some time alone to... well, get re-acquainted with each other?

As euphemisms went there were worse ones. But he needed her so much, and in so many ways, that he really didn't care what it looked like to anybody else. So, with a soulful request to his ship to keep the other two occupied until he and Rose were ready for them, he flashed his trademark grin at the woman who would hold his hearts from now until Doomsday and waggled his fingers at her.

"Come with me?"

The question was simple, but loaded with an emotional charge. Did she still love him the same way she'd always done? The way he loved her? Did she still want him? He needed to know the answers to these questions, but at the same time, he was terrified that they would not be the ones he wanted to hear.

For a brief few seconds she didn't move, and his hearts sank. But then her cheeky grin smiled up at him and she grasped his hand with hers, their fingers interlacing with each other’s in the same way they always had. As he pulled her away down the TARDIS corridors, he felt himself let go of a breath he had not been aware he was holding. They would be OK, she and he. He refused to think otherwise, refused to let himself think of what he was about to do to her. _Carpe diem_ was a much better motto.

-oO-x-Oo-

  
_Oh, she had missed this. Missed him._

Running down the corridor hand-in-hand was perhaps not the same as running across the surface of an alien planet away from someone trying to kill them both, granted – it lacked something of the adrenaline rush, for a start – but for someone like her, who'd been stuck on Earth for so long now, it was at least different (if familiar) ground beneath her feet.

Daydreaming about what the future held meant that she didn't notice when he stopped suddenly, and ended up crashing into him, almost making both of them fall over. He managed to keep his balance, though – he'd always had a slightly annoying habit of being able to do that – and his hands came up around her waist, steadying her. Once he seemed content that she was no longer in any danger of falling over, he pulled her to him in a crushing embrace, clutching at her convulsively for a few seconds and then releasing her – only to then swoop down and place a bruisingly hard kiss on her lips.

"Oh, my love, I've missed you," he muttered in a rough tone, just loudly enough for her to hear, and she melted inside.

The next thing he said, though, had a complete opposite effect. "You can't stay, Rose. I can't let you."

"What? _"_

-oO-x-Oo-

He might have guessed she'd take it badly. Trust him to open his mouth and blurt it out before he'd even told her _why_.

"Rose —" He started attempting to explain, but she was already too angry to listen.

" _No_! You _cannot_ just make decisions like that for me any more. _Particularly_ not after I've come all this way. You know... I thought you and I had finally— well, I obviously got _that_ wrong!"

Running out of breath with which to shout, she loosened her fingers from his and started to move away; he felt an icy wave of panicked fear strike him. He acted instinctively to stop her, and it was only when he heard her cry out in pain that he realised he was holding her hand so tightly his fingernails were digging in to her skin.

Bringing their entwined hands up towards his lips, in a show of his oddly alien swiftness that prevented Rose from reacting in time to stop him, he kissed the afflicted hand better with first lips, then tongue. He hoped her reaction would mean that she'd stop shouting long enough to give him the chance to explain, and judging by the evidence – her dazed expression, her slightly-parted lips – it was working.

He smirked inwardly at his success before unilaterally deciding that those lips were just too tempting, and pulling her gently back towards him again, leaned in for another kiss. He felt her struggle against it for a moment which, considering what he had just told her, was entirely unsurprising. But she didn't pull away from him either, which was encouraging, and he brought both his arms around her, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. He had missed being able to do this almost as much as he'd missed the woman he was doing it _with_.

Rose made an incoherent noise in the back of her throat and he found himself grinning stupidly into the kiss, thrilled beyond measure that he could still coax this sort of a reaction out of her. So it was with deep reluctance that he broke away, standing there watching her try to get her breath back (a small part of him proud in an oddly _human_ – no, _male_ , he corrected himself swiftly – way) before speaking again.

"I could," he said, in that tone he had that was full of the promise of what he could, and would do, to and with her, "keep on kissing you through all eternity, Rose Tyler. But _not here_."

He freed one of his hands and used it to cup her cheek, needing suddenly the physical reassurance of her skin against his. He swallowed, hard, and then held out his hand for her to take. The fact that she slid her fingers between his without any further encouragement made his hearts skip a beat.

"Rose. _My_ Rose. Come with me?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all about _them_.

_He was so infuriating, this man. She really hadn't missed that about him. They needed to discuss that, when they had the chance but she got the entirely unsettling feeling that she knew exactly what he was going to do, and she didn't like it one bit. She hadn't come back to him just for him to turn around and send her straight back again. She'd been about to give him a piece of her mind, to say precisely that, when he had silenced her with one of his kisses. He'd always been a fantastic kisser – how could he not have been, what with that oral fixation of his? But the fact that just one kiss from him made her melt, beg for more, didn't exactly make her feel very happy._

Still, maybe she would get some more information out of him when they got to wherever it was they were going.

\--oO-x-Oo-

He knew she wasn't happy with him at the moment, and after what he'd just told her he supposed he couldn't really blame her. Fretting, he debated with himself briefly the merits of arguing the point, but for once decided it was better left alone for the now. He would explain everything to her eventually, he promised himself. Just let him have this precious little bit of time alone with her, first.

Eventually he drew to a stop outside a plain wooden door and could not help but grin at the wide-eyed expression in her eyes as she took in where they were.

-oO-x-Oo-

  
_It was their room. The one they had shared from the beginning of their relationship until that fateful day they'd gone to visit her Mum. Memories of the War and the parallel universe crowded into her consciousness memory, and it was all she could do to hold back the tears that quickly filled her eyes. When he touched her arm gently, oh so gently – as if she were a fragile thing, easily broken – and asked if she wanted to go in, she closed her eyes, nodding silently, unable to speak for fear of weeping._

The tears spilt from her eyes anyway and she felt him leaning in to kiss them away. His tone, as he breathed her name, left her in no doubt as to the depth of his feelings for her, that they had not changed one bit, were still just as strong as before. She opened her eyes again to find him looking down at her, his expression soft, tender, full of everything he could not say.

She smiled a tiny smile and the creases of worry around his eyes lessened a little as he held out his hand to her. Remembering everything about what that simple act symbolised for them, she took it, allowing him to lead her into their room.

-oO-x-Oo-

"Do you want to go in?"

He was almost frightened to wait for the answer. It had been a long time for both of them and he had to be prepared for the possibility that she might not to want to go anywhere near the place where they had once been lovers.

When she stopped dead in her tracks, closing her eyes, his hearts sank, taking it as a message that she didn't want to revisit that particular part of their past. He sucked in a breath, trying not to think of how much it hurt, trying only to feel grateful – _grateful?_ – that it would make what he needed to do that much less painful.

Rose's breath hitched suddenly then, catching his attention, and as his head whipped around to look at her, he could see the tears on her face and he swore beneath his breath at himself. Look how useless he was as a friend, let alone as a lover – all he could do was make his Rose cry.

_Oh no. No, no, that's not right_ , he thought, and his body was moving to comfort her even before his mind could process the conscious thought. He cradled her head gently with his hands before leaning in to kiss the tears away, murmuring her name repeatedly under his breath.

He was rewarded almost immediately when she smiled a tiny smile up at him. He smiled gently back at her, with his hand held out in invitation, and when she took it, allowed him to lead her slowly into their room, his hearts lightened considerably.

He was rapidly revising his options too. The longer he spent in her company, the more reluctant he became to go through with his original plan. He could not give her up, he simply _couldn't_. It would destroy him – and her. But enough of what had to be, for now. He had had his wildest dream granted and he didn't want to waste a single second.

-oO-x-Oo-

  
_He wasn't doing anything and that in itself was strange. The Doctor she'd left had been in the habit of running his mouth off at about a hundred miles an hour, with a corresponding inability to stay still for longer than a few minutes at a time. But this one? All he seemed to do was stand there, staring at her with something of a deer-in-the-headlights look about him, doing, saying, nothing at all._

It was starting to feel uncomfortable, and if he didn't say something soon she would have to consider just walking away. Then an expression crossed his face that managed to say a hundred things at once without him uttering a single word, and she sighed in fond exasperation, squeezing his hand. He blinked, as if coming out of some sort of trance, and smiled brightly down at her.

It seemed to her he had come to some sort of a decision. And as she wondered about what exactly that decision could be, he closed the tiny, tiny gap between them and kissed her.

-oO-x-Oo-

She was looking at him in that strange way she had when he was being particularly obtuse, which he supposed he really couldn't blame her for. He'd appeared to want to continue their relationship where they had left off after all, only to then appear to completely zone out on her. Mixed messages were tricky things and he was rather surprised that she was still there with him.

He shook himself, blinking a lot as he did when he was thinking of what to say – although he forced himself not to run his fingers through his hair (fearing that Rose would misinterpret this). She had squeezed his hand though, so the situation wasn't completely beyond his control, which was good. He wanted her to stay with him, he knew that now. Some other solution was going to have to be worked out about his alter-ego.

Decision made (or so he thought), he smiled brightly – one of his trademark grins, which in his opinion you could never have too many of –and closed the gap between them to kiss her again. As he kissed her, he started to move them closer to the bed. He intended to make love to Rose, but none whatsoever of doing it in anything but comfortable circumstances. His hands, which had been holding her to him, started moving too – on a quest for bare skin.

By the time he got her to the bed he had managed to get that leather jacket she was wearing (he refused, still, to think of how similar to his previous self she'd become, despite the mounting evidence that pointed to precisely that) half off her. His fingers had found their way, finally, underneath her purple sweater-like top – as they had been attempting to do with varying degrees of success (complete and abject failure being the two degrees) since he'd set eyes on her again.

Rose had not been idle either. His jacket was discarded, forgotten about somewhere on the floor, his tie loosened and his shirt unbuttoned. Her hands were on his skin, splayed against his chest, and if he were to die and regenerate right now, he would be a happy man. He didn't want her to move her hands at all but he knew that if he wanted to get any further – and as he felt Rose grind her hips into his, felt his corresponding reaction, he knew he _did_ – he'd have no choice.

Just as he moved his hands to cover hers, she moved one of hers to cup him through his trousers and he found himself unable to do anything except moan into her mouth, thrusting fruitlessly against her hand, leaving both of them in no doubt at all about what he _wanted_ to be doing. The next thing he was aware of was her smiling against his mouth as he tried to express through a kiss what he had never yet managed to do in words. Then he found himself gasping for breath as he felt his trousers being unfastened and her hot little _human_ hand fondling and caressing him.

It felt even more marvellous than he remembered, and if she kept this up for too much longer the bed might end up being redundant. He'd forgotten – well, he'd _made_ himself forget, which was almost the same thing but not quite – how much he'd missed her, missed her hands on him. He couldn't believe he was willingly considering giving it up. As if on cue, Rose removed her hand from where she'd been caressing him and he groaned into her mouth at the loss of contact.

And then Rose broke the kiss.


End file.
